


Let's Talk About Sex

by ssa_archivist



Category: Smallville
Genre: Established Relationship, Humor, M/M, PWP
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2003-01-28
Updated: 2003-01-28
Packaged: 2017-11-01 08:12:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,724
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/354236
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ssa_archivist/pseuds/ssa_archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>If you can't say it, then you can't do it.  *Submitted to the 'Rub It 'Til It Breaks' Challenge.*</p>
            </blockquote>





	Let's Talk About Sex

## Let's Talk About Sex

by zahra

<http://www.obsessedmuch.net/dysfunctional>

* * *

"I want you," Clark whispers hoarsely into Lex's ear, and really that's all the incentive Lex needs. Shirt to the left, jeans to the right, and boxers somewhere that might be the overhead light. Lex knew there was a reason that he doesn't get terribly dressed up on the days he expects Clark to visit. The reason being that Lex generally ends up on his back, or his side, or on top, or in any given position that does not require his sartorial best. 

Today, Lex didn't even bother putting on socks. Besides, they don't give good resistance when he's lying on his bed. 

"I like watching you," Clark offers, kneeling over Lex's hips in dark green boxers while Lex reaches out and runs a hand up Clark's thigh. He likes the dark green; it's a good color, and he's glad he bought them. Lex's hand slides over the cotton, pointedly ignoring the breach in the fabric, and using the elastic band to glide over to the other side. 

" _Lex_." Clark moans Lex's name like he's dying, but that would be bad considering he's still partially clothed. Lex should probably do something about that, and he hitches his thumbs into the waistband of Clark's boxers, preparing to unwrap his eternal birthday present. 

The problem comes when Clark's hand blocks his motions. 

System error. There's a bug in the program. 

"Going to do it yourself, Clark?" he teases, refusing to be concerned that Clark has suddenly gone coy. Shyness is not acceptable when Lex is lying on his back, naked, with his cock quite clearly in Clark's line of sight. No, there's no doubt in Lex's mind that Clark won't attend to 'the matter at hand' because the matter at hand is practically levitating off Lex's chest and chanting Clark's name. "Are you going to touch yourself for me?" Lex's voice is silky, and Clark visibly shudders when Lex finally pulls his hands away. 

"I want to do it to you," Clark's voice breaks through the silence, and Lex folds his hands behind his head. It would never do to clap with glee. Glee is bad, and clapping would be rude, maybe a shimmy would be okay. Judging by the dinner plate size of Clark's eyes, Lex wouldn't be wrong. 

"You want to do _what_ to me, Clark?" 

"You know," Clark says, rearranging himself on all fours and running a warm hand down Lex's side. 

You. Know. Lex knows what? Jesus, that almost killed the mood. 

"I know _what_ , Clark?" Surely Lex heard wrong. 

"I want to do _it_ ," Clark repeats. His eyes are lidded, his hair is appropriately tousled, but his words are leaving Lex cold. It's like someone started reading from a bad psuedo-porn/ slasher movie where the kids get killed for having sex. 

"Wait. Are you telling me you can't even _say_ the words, Clark?" It's a good thing that Lex's hands are behind his head, because then Clark can't see him grappling with the pillow in an effort not to snap. Lex fixes Clark with his best glare. The problem being that the Luthor stare never seems to work on Clark, and maybe it's time for Lex to adopt new facial expressions. 

"Of course, I can say it." Clark pulls back until he's once again kneeling over Lex, and it's worse than wrong. They're going backwards. Next they'll be getting dressed and going back downstairs to flirt, and it will be months until Lex can get Clark into bed again. 

Goddamn regression. 

"Are you sure about that?" Lex wriggles a bit against the mattress, fruitlessly trying to find some sort of instant relief that he knows is nowhere in sight when he's lying on his back. This is quite clearly the Worst Time Possible to have this conversation. And yes, it should all be in capital letters, because his timing really is _that_ bad. There could not be a worse time in all of creation for him to have this conversation with Clark, and that would include Jonathan Kent outside his bedroom door with a pickaxe and a meat grinder. 

Point in fact, Lex feels as though he's going through the grinder right now, so there are actually quite a few similarities. His cock is never going to forgive him for this. If Lex froze this moment in time, waited until he died, came back cryogenically and went back to this moment, his timing would still be off. 

What on earth made him tell Clark to stop? 

What force - that quite clearly isn't from this planet - told him that Clark shouldn't give him a blowjob until he could at least say the words to Lex? 

"If you can't say it, then you can't do it." Lex's dick is livid. Almost as livid as Clark. 

"Lex." 

" _Clark_." 

"Are you serious?" 

That's exactly what Lex's cock is screaming too. Good thing it doesn't have a voice anybody else can hear. 

"Are you telling me that you want me to stop, Lex?" All the blood loss has clearly impaired Lex's judgment to the highest degree. This is ridiculous. Lex has made multi-million deals while participating in threesomes; and now he's missing out on getting his dick sucked because he doesn't have enough mental capacity to remember his own middle name? 

"Joseph," Clark says, draping himself over Lex's body and pulling Lex into the present with a very lascivious grind of his hips. Dear fucking god, they don't need to be having this conversation right now. It can wait until after the blowjob in question, can't it? 

Wait. Did Clark just read his mind? 

"Clark, did you just - did you get a new power this week and not --" Fucking hell, this is never going to work if Clark won't hold still. They're supposed to be having a conversation, only Lex's brain cells are trying to short out and he won't let them. He is severely going to pay for this later on; he knows this. As it stands, Clark and he hardly ever get to spend time together anymore: Clark's getting ready for college and there's Lex Corp and this is Smallville. Did Lex mention the college thing? With this severe lack of sex that Lex has been suffering from over the last several months, one would think that he would shut up and let Clark get on with 'it'. Whatever he wants to call it. 

"I can make you feel really good," Clark offers with another grind of his hips. Cotton against Lex's cock is just like shooting fish in a barrel. Lex is going to come, he knows it, blowjob or not. All the same, if Lex is sending Clark off to college, shouldn't Clark have the lexicon to brag along with everybody else? 

" _Clark_ ," hands to waist, check. Boyfriend pretending to be held immobile, check. Hard-on that could break into the National Treasury? Sadly, check. "Just say it." 

"It," Clark parrots as his cotton-clad erection rubs Lex the right way and the wrong way and all the ways possible. 

Jesus, can Clark even tell Lex to suck _his_ dick? Does Lex even _care_ at this point? 

"Clark, just..." Lex is having a thought. The thought is not strong enough to withstand the warm man rubbing against Lex like they're trying to provide electricity for the greater Metropolis area. And god, Lex had a horse like this once. 

A beautiful Morgan named Perditas who liked to nuzzle Lex for attention. Clark is a lot like Perditas. When Lex wouldn't give Perditas what she wanted, she would nuzzle him until Lex gave up the goods or got knocked off his feet. So looking back on that lesson, Lex supposes it's a good thing that he's lying down right now, because Clark has decided to take matters into his own hands, or hips, and now he's grinding against Lex like friction will change Lex's mind. 

Except that Lex doesn't remember the conversation. 

"You smell so good." Fuck, is that Clark purring? People don't purr. Boys don't purr. Aliens, maybe _they_ purr, but this still new, and Lex can feel the rumbling in Clark's chest. "I always think you taste the way sex should." 

Lex's dick is never going to go down. Ever. 

"Clark, please." Lex isn't above begging now. There is no pride left. Pride has taken down the Lex Corp flag and is currently draped in white and screaming for someone to come and save it. 

"Please what?" Clark has released one of Lex's hands and he's licking his fingers. His long, very long fingers right in front of Lex's face. That's just cruel. If he doesn't use them to Lex's aid, there are going to be - oh. Wet fingers around Lex's cock. Very wet. 

"Fuck." Lex is not going to start chanting because Clark's giving him a hand job. That's his dick's responsibility, but obviously the routing is mixed up in his hard drive and his cock's been directly wired to his mouth. "Fuck, fuck, fuck." 

"That's something different," Clark chides softly, like Lex really cares. 

"Clark," Lex's teeth are clamped together, and his whole body is rubbing together. Friction everywhere. He may be barely intelligible but he knows the gist of what he wants. "Just fucking _say_ it." 

"I," Clark begins. "Want," strong calves are rubbing against Lex's legs. "To," a mouth licking at his jaw line. "Suck," there are hands sliding under his pillow and entwining their fingers. "Your," a hard grind against Lex's groin. "Cock," punctuated by Clark biting his shoulder. 

"Jesus, Clark." Lex has never been one for the lights and stars analogy but there they are, and Lex's orgasm is much like the Fourth of July. That's such a patriotic, yet disturbing thought. He'll remember it inappropriately during his first inauguration, if he lives that long. 

"I always like it when you play the virgin," Lex says finally, as the air rushes back into his lungs, and his jaw comes unclamped. 

"I know you do," Clark grins as he drops a kiss on Lex's forehead, before rolling off to the side. 

"Are you going to take those off now?" Lex motions to Clark's boxers, which have gone above and beyond the call of duty today. 

"That depends, are you going to talk me out of them?" 

-finis- 


End file.
